AISYAH LOVE VERSE

The meeting...

*Visual Illustrations

Aisha Huriyya Atmaja. Beautiful girl of noble descent from Jogjakarta who decided to study in Jakarta. Having a childhood love story with a son kyai the owner of a boarding school that continues to carry over until he grows up. Dreams of visiting Tajmahal in India.

Hamzah Alghazalis. A dashing young man full of charisma, who has just graduated from Al-Ahzar, Egypt. He is the eldest son of a Kyai owner of a prominent boarding school in Jogjakarta.

Thus, he is the successor of his father later.

William Stevan Ballard's. An Indo-German man who had just finished his business school in Canada, and returned to Indonesia to become a young President at an executive company in Jakarta owned by his father.

have a life motto :

One Life - One Wife's.

***

The meeting...

The dawn prayer has just finished. Develop people who are asleep in the dream cradle, to immediately stand up and run the Robb command.

I immediately closed the book in front of me, and was just about to go to the bathroom to fetch some water, when suddenly someone knocked on my door.

"Tok tock, please,. Aishy,. have you woken up?" my mother's voice sounded from outside.

I'll open the door soon.

"Already mom,. Aishy woke up at half-four, prayed tahajjud, continued to learn."

I have been awake since. After the tahajjud prayer, I usually sleep again. But since today was the last day of my school exam, and especially the Arabic practice exam, which I found quite difficult, I deliberately did not sleep anymore to study.

"Oh, yo wes, I don't think you've woken up yet ."

I closed the door again, then rushed to fetch water, then prayed at dawn.

After the prayer I tidied up the books that were still scattered on the study table, tidied up the bed, then opened the window of my room. Instantly the cold air mixed with the smell of jasmine burst into my room.

Yes, in my yard is filled with jasmine flowers. My mother loved jasmine flowers. Not only to spoil the eyes outside the house, mothers also often harvest jasmine flowers, to dry, then made a mixture of tea, be jasmine tea.

My mother is not a real man. The mother came from the city of Surabaya, then after marrying the father, then the mother settled in Jogja.

I circulated the view, a white expanse of jasmine flowers that were struck by a little dim light from the porch lights of the house, making it like snow grains.

Then my eyes were fixed on the cluster of red roses in the corner of the courtyard. I planted the roses because I love red roses.

Unlike a mother who was so fanatical about her jasmine, I actually made the rose like something cult. Exotic. Untouchable. Just look at her to absorb her beauty energy.

"Krenteeng,..!"

The sound of the front gate of the house surprised me. It was seen that my father and Mirza, my brother, had just returned from the mosque after dawn prayers.

 

I glanced at the small alarm clock on the table.

"Astahgfirullah,.! "

Almost half six. I grabbed the towel and rushed to take a shower. Preoccupation pecking in front of the window of the room, almost made me late to go to school.

***

I entered the classroom in a bit of a hurry. Then sit on my stool and put down my sling bag containing the exam sheet idler board, stationery, and an Arabic package book. I took out the book, then started to open the page again.

Some of my friends who have come first are also seen doing the same thing with me. Some also choose outside the classroom, because it is not the time for exam hours. I got the lyrics to the desk drawer next to me, there's a blue bag in it.

Hmm, that means Nuri has come. Where's she?

Nuri Maulida, is my best friend. We were friends since childhood. We also always attended the same school, from the time we were in Ibtidaiyah Madrasah, until now in Aliyah Madrasah. And we also have the same dream, to study in Jakarta after graduating from school later.

Suddenly I remembered something. Earlier on the way to school, I felt my ablutions. I don't know since when I started getting used to keeping ablution, which is clear since childhood Dad always taught me to keep ablution.

"Dear of ablution, angels will always look after you." Said dad at that time.

I got off the bench, left the classroom, and headed to the mosque to get some water.

My school is in a pesantren neighborhood. Pondok Pesantren Al - Fallah. Owner of the cottage, KH. Alghazali Bukhori. He is a great scholar and quite reluctant in Jogja. Pondok Pesantren Al-Fallah is also one of the largest boarding houses on the island of Java. The founder of Pondok Pesantren Al-Fallah used to be Sheh Hannan Al-Fallah, Sheh from Arabia who was the grandfather of Kyai Bukhori.

In Pondok Pesantren Al-Fallah, education is divided into two, namely public schools and special pesantren. I belong to the public school, meaning not to go to the boarding school, but the school in the madrasah belongs to the boarding school. But every afternoon I still teach at the boarding school, and at the weekend, I stay at the boarding school. Many of my friends also do the same thing, and indeed provided a special dormitory in the boarding school for students of models like us. So we sangantrinya only in the afternoon, and nginep in pesantrennya once a week. We are usually nicknamed santri kalong, he he he, why is it called that, even though that call means bat.

I finished ablution and walked back to class while busy fixing my sleeves that I had rolled up during ablution.

"Bruuuk,.!!! "

I hit someone's back from behind, I almost slammed down, but the man reflexively pushed on and his burly hand grabbed my arm to keep my body from falling.

A pure white face, thick browed, arabic-nosed, frowned, staring intently at me.

Knowing who the person I just hit, my heart seemed to jump and beat fast. I hurriedly pulled my arm to escape from the clutches of his hand. I took two steps back.

"Afwan, I didn't accidentally." I'm lirih.

I was clumsy and downcast while pretending to justify my non-sloping hijab. Shame is ambushing me. Because of the way while looking down I hit someone. What's more, that someone is....

"Aisha,.? You're Aisyah right?"

I nodded my head without daring to raise my face. I know, he must be watching me with his eagle eyes.

"You're a big ee now. Salamku yoo with Masmu. Tell Mirza I've come. Tell him to play in the cabin"

I nodded my head, remaining without daring to raise my face.

"Yes there, get to class." His order.

"Hey, Aishy...! If that path is not while bowing. It'll crash again. Still mending if hit people, if hit by a goat how? ha ha ha...."

Turns out he's still watching me.

I was speeding up the pace even more, regardless of his words just now.

Yes Robb, it feels like you want to suddenly have the science of eliminating yourself instantly. Maluu....

When I got to class, I hurriedly sat down.

"Hhuuuf...!!"

My heart hasn't stopped yet.

Astarghfirullah....

"Aishy, where are you from? I've been looking for you not there?" Nuri asked while looking at me. Apparently when I went to the mosque, he was looking for me.

"From the mosque, wudhu."

"Eh, Aishy, what's your face? that red kog? " Nuri tilted her head while highlighting sharply towards me.

" What the hell is Nur...?!" I pushed Nuri's shoulder away.

I pretended to be busying myself by opening the Arabic language in front of me.

Yes Robb...Is my face really flushed ??

" Eh,.. Aishy,. You know yet?"

"Know what?"

"Mas Hamzah, the daughter of Kyai who studied in Egypt, has come. Just then I passed the library, accidentally saw Mas Hamzah there. Biyuuh, added guanteeeeng loh Mas Hamzah. Anyway wes koyo the Arab." Nuri nyerocos long.

" Eh,. isn't koyo ding...? They are arabic, of arab descent. Geek...."

Nuri muttered to herself while patting her own eel.

"Hhhhh...." I let out a breath.

"I know, I met him"

"Huhh...? Did you meet Mas Hamzah?"

"Meet Nuri Maulida. Not meeting. It was also unintentional."

"Cie cie, man,... Your face was red." Nuri teasing me.

" Apaan the hell, Nur,..! Shut up ah, I'm memorizing this nahwu sorof."

I pretended to seriously read the Arabic book in front of me. My eyes and heart are out of sync right now. My eyes are in the direction of the book, and my heart is in the other direction.

"Where was the meeting? Does he remember you not? Hi hi hi hi, you used to call him your prince."

Nuri continued to chatter without caring about my present. I'm getting pissed off.

" Nuri,...! You don't talk carelessly. If anyone hears what?" I pinched Nuri's waist.

" Ow! Ow hell! Ha ha ha,..." Nuri complained of pain but kept laughing.

"If I don't want to be pinched again this is hard" I pretended to be angry and threatening.

" Okay, sendiko dawuh, Kanjeng Raden Ayu Aisyah Huriyya Atmaja "

I glared at Nuri because she called me that. Yes it is not wrong actually, because it is my noble title name, but it feels careless if someone calls me that.

"TOKS. GECK. GEEK !" Class door knocked.

" ASSALAMUALAIKUM !"

"KATRINAS,..!" We were in a class in unison answering greetings.

I looked up to see who was in my class. Apparently him! Hamzah. Instantly my chest came back pounding.

It turns out that the teacher who became the examiner in the final exam of Arabic practice, was Mas Hamzah.

Yeah Robb, why does he have to ??

 

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Thank you for stopping by to read the Aisyah Love Verse novel.

This is my first work, though,.

I just learned nulis

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_Rohana Kadirapir